


Fall From Grace

by alexcat



Category: A Study in Emerald - Neil Gaiman
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:44:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2787161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexcat/pseuds/alexcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened <b>after</b> <i>A Study In Emerald</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fall From Grace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Morgan (duckwhatduck)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckwhatduck/gifts).



> I am primarily a fan of Sherlock Holmes and this one was just too much fun. I hope you enjoy it.

I have previously told you of my friend and of his work as a consulting detective, have I not? 

I have also mentioned that I was a soldier in Afghanistan? That my friend is often called upon to serve the Queen? Ah, I thought so. Then we are on the same page here. 

Well, I have a new and sadder tale to tell this time. 

First I offer some background. Our fair Albion, indeed our fair Earth, was visited some 700 years ago by a people from outer space. By visited, I mean conquered and they divided the rule of Earth among themselves with Victoria taking rule of our island and all within it. 

Humans had no choice but to obey their masters and be good servants. In return, we were protected by our monarch. Strangely enough, this arrangement seemed to make most humans quite satisfied with their lives, myself among them. 

But not all. . 

Some time back, as you may recall, we were asked to solve a murder for the Queen herself, as the victim was a nephew of Prince Albert and a favorite. 

That is where I shall begin…

*

I knew that my friend would not leave things alone after he found out who had killed the Bohemian prince. And he did not. It was not in his nature to do so. 

It began with the letter and progressed from there. 

I had taken a trip out of the country on his behalf and when I returned, he met me at the train station, something very unusual for him. He had hired a handsome cab and soon we were on our way to Baker Street. 

“I have had another letter from _Rache_ ,” he finally said as we rode over the cobbled streets. 

“Oh? What did this one say?” 

“He asked me what your business was on the continent and warned me not to try to stop him from his work.” 

“He did? How did he know I was on the continent?” 

“He apparently considers what we do to be his business. He has an agenda but I think that this has become personal as well. He doesn’t want us to stop him from his slaughter of royals and the like.” 

He handed me the letter.

_My Dear Sir,_

_I am curious what your friend is doing abroad. Could he be about your business? Or does he have a life of his own apart from being your – toady? If you value him in any way, you might want to see that the both of you stay away from me. I will be about my business, no matter what._

_Rache_

“Not very wordy this time, was he?” I asked, trying not to let my fear and revulsion show. 

My friend said nothing. We rode to our domicile in silence. He looked around as we got out of the cab and dashed up the steps. If he saw anyone, he didn’t say. I followed hurriedly behind him, both nervous and alarmed at his behavior. 

I unpacked and made some tea and finally sat down to read the papers. The Queen was going to Switzerland with Prince Albert for a holiday. They would leave next week and be gone for a month. 

“Shall I pack up again?” I asked him, knowing that we would be following the Royals on their journey. 

“I have already packed for us both. We will leave tomorrow, ahead of the Queen. I expect Dr. Watson is sharpening his knives as we speak. I am sure he means to spill more green blood, the Queen’s, to be exact.”

“And you mean to stop him?” I asked, knowing the answer. 

“I do.” 

I didn’t like it and had a bad feeling about the whole thing, but my friend was seldom deterred from something he’d set his mind to and this was one of those times. I also had a most troubling thought and wasn’t sure if I wanted to share it with my companion or not. 

“Do you think it’s possible for the Restorationists to be right?” I finally asked him.

He looked at me as if I were as alien as our queen was. “Right? How can they be right? We were wandering around in our own stupidity before the Old Ones came and took that burden from us.” 

“But wouldn’t freedom of thought and action be preferred?” I prodded. The idea of freedom did not lack appeal to me. 

“Never! The Old Ones take care of us as we never could ourselves. They provide guidance and leadership. All we are required to do is obey. Who could ask for more?” 

I fell into silence. It was fruitless to argue. My friend’s intellect was so much above my own that I felt like a chastised child for even daring to disagree with him. If he said that the Old Ones were better for us, they must be. 

Mustn’t they? 

*

We boarded the train early the next morning after having our driver go a circuitous route that seemed to take us all over the city. I supposed that we were trying to dodge anyone who might be following us at the behest of our enemy. I have to admit that my companion seemed to be more fearful than I was. 

My disturbing thoughts from the night before came back to me as we traveled by train to the coast and then across to France and by train to Switzerland. We had a lot of time to spend. I did not feel like conversing so I opened the paper I’d bought at the station and looked at it. I found that I could not concentrate enough to read. 

Was mankind made for servitude? Or freedom of choice? 

I had not pondered these things before but now that I had them on my mind, they would not be quiet and let me go back to my contentment with my life as directed by the Old Ones. 

My companion, I shall call him Jim, was noticeably agitated when we finally arrived in the picturesque country. I knew him well enough to know he was expecting trouble, dangerous trouble at that. He carried a pistol and had insisted that I bring mine along as well. He fidgeted and looked out the train window constantly. 

Switzerland was quite beautiful. Had the Queen been human, then I might understand her wanting to come here. As it was, I doubted she would even see the scenery. Before we arrived, I had doubted that she was as fearful of the Restorationists as she truly was. Evidently, they really did mean to kill her. 

We arrived at last at the town of Meiringen. It was smallish and I wondered at the Queen staying in such a tiny hamlet. Surely a city like Geneva would suit her better. 

But it wasn’t the Queen we were there for. It was Vernet. I didn’t see him anywhere but Jim said he had been about, according to the man who owned the small hotel we stayed in. 

We stayed a few days, enjoying the chilly mountain air and eating the fine food provided by the small kitchen at our hotel. 

One morning, the fourth morning, to be exact, I heard my friend ask the host about seeing the waterfalls. I had not visited this area before, as my primary business before now had been as a soldier and as far as I knew, Albion had not warred with Switzerland yet. 

I was puzzled that we were going sightseeing with such important matters before us. Jim was not inclined to answer my questions either. I simply went along mostly out of curiosity and loyalty. 

I saw them before he did. Vernet and Dr. Watson - Holmes and Watson as I have since come to know. They were following a young guide up the steps to the waterfalls, Reichenbach Falls was the name. 

The Reichenbach Falls are simply beautiful, falling in a silver cascade down the mountainside! I can see how anyone would delight in seeing them, but why now? Does one go sightseeing when one’s life is in danger? 

We followed at a discreet distance. Up we went to the top of the falls and then across a small footbridge to a path back down nearer top the waterfalls. I wondered why Holmes and Watson were leading us to such a hazardous place. Then I realized that they meant to kill us, something I had not taken seriously until that very moment. 

Within the hour, we were coming near to them. My companion called out. 

“There is nowhere to go from here. Face me here and we shall decide our fate.”

They stopped and waited for us to come nearer. When we were within 50 feet, they began to move again, down toward the falls. We followed at a faster pace thus by the time they arrived at the actual waterfall, we caught up with them.

Holmes smiled. “Have you come to save the Alien Queen, our master?”

“I have. It is my duty, indeed the duty of every citizen of Albion,” Jim Moriarty said in answer. 

“Do you enjoy enslavement? Do you like to look at their hideousness? Do you call that green ichor inside them blood?” Holmes asked as he pressed closer, pistol drawn and ready, as was Watson’s. 

“We are subjects of the Queen and, as such, we much serve her,” my friend insisted. 

I didn’t like the way this was shaping up. I found that I leaned in ideas more toward that horrid Holmes and his fiendish friend than I did my own best friend and employer. I slipped my hand into my pocket, expecting one of our adversaries to call me on it but neither man said a word. 

“Your kind must die,” my friend, Jim, cried out and reached for his own pistol. 

Before any conscious thought entered my mind, I had aimed my own weapon at him and squeezed the trigger. He looked surprised for a moment, putting his hand to the chest wound I’d given him and looking at the blood on his hand. He then fell into the abyss as he knew he would when we came up here. And he was gone.

Holmes and Watson stared at me, not saying a word for a few seconds. 

“I take it you are one of us?” Watson asked. 

“I have been since Afghanistan. Mankind was born to live free. Torture taught me that,” I said as I put my gun away. “Now leave this place. I will tell them that you died fighting with my friend here at the falls. Watson will back me up. Go. Plot your next move and may God be with you.” 

Holmes left. 

Our dear Queen was felled by an assassin some years later, leaving me to wonder if Holmes and Watson finally fulfilled their mission. 

I hope so. 

Men are born to be free. 

~end~


End file.
